


And the Second Coming

by QueenOfTheSiege



Category: The Librarians (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, Cassandra's backstory, Gen, and i can't get over the fact that she hates babies, backstory fic, because apparently i have overwhelming cassandra feels?, family fic, fluff maybe, mostly angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-06
Updated: 2016-02-06
Packaged: 2018-05-18 13:16:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5929776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfTheSiege/pseuds/QueenOfTheSiege
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This Summer is looking quite auspicious for fifteen year old Cassandra Cillian.  She intends to make the most of it before heading off to college in the Fall.  But life doesn't always turn out how we plan or how we hope, and Cassandra's life is about to change in ways that no one could have ever expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Cassandra is in for one hell of a Summer.

It was going to be her _best_ Summer _ever_.Cassandra promised herself that.This was going to be her last Summer attending Johns Hopkins Center for Talented Youth’s Intensive Studies Summer Program.She had been going every Summer since she had turned 12, and this would be her fourth and final year.Even though she was only 15 and the program allowed you to attend through the age of 16, Cassandra didn’t see the point in going after this year.Why bother wasting time in a Summer Program for high school students that offered college-level courses when she’d be headed there anyway this Fall?Not that CTY’s Summer Program was a waste of time!It was Cassandra’s favorite thing to do all year.It only lasted six weeks, but they had always been the best six weeks of her life.She loved the challenges and opportunities it provided her.Her parents and school administrators tried.They really did.But sometimes she just feel so caged in at her school, and even sometimes at home.Intensive Studies was like a breath of fresh air.But Cassandra was really hoping to spend her next Summer taking extra college courses.She hoped they were as fun and stimulating as the ones offered by CTY.

She folded her final pair of shorts and placed them in her large suitcase, taking a quick inventory of its contents.  Eighty-six.  She counted eighty-six items, and frowned.

“Huh,” she muttered quietly to herself, “usually there are eighty-seven.”

Cassandra squinted and focused on recalling each and every item she had packed, cross-referencing it with what she had packed the past three years.She absent-mindedly waved her fingers as she checked her mental lists, swiftly picturing each item and matching it to what she knew was already in her suitcase.

“Shoes, check.Pajamas, check.Hairbrush, check.Toothpaste, check,” she murmured.“Toothbrush, che-,” she stopped mid-check mark, “Oooh!Toothbrush!That’s what I forgot!”

Her triumphant smile wavered when she felt a sudden headache and her nose began to bleed.She dabbed at it with the thumb and forefinger of one hand, and rubbed at her temple with the other.Her brows furrowed and her wavering smile turned into a frown.

“That’s weird.This has never happened before.”

As soon as the headache had come on, it was gone.Swiping a tissue from the box on her nightstand and cleaning up her nose, she brushed off the odd experience as a side effect of her nerves and went to fetch her forgotten toothbrush from the bathroom.

“All packed up there, sweetheart?” Cassandra’s mom called.

Cassandra plopped down as forcefully as she could on top of her suitcase and finally got it to close enough to zipper.

“Yep, I’m all ready to go!” 

She huffed as she dragged the suitcase off of her bed, landing with a thump.She breathlessly pulled it into the hallway, and almost walked straight into her father who was standing patiently at the top of the stairs.

“Here, let me get that for my little genius,” he said with pride, planting a kiss on the top of her head, “Wouldn’t want to put too much pressure on that wonderful brain of yours.”

He winked as he effortlessly carried her suitcase down the steps.Cassandra just sighed.She knew he thought he was being sweet, but sometimes she wished her parents would see her as more than their brilliant daughter, the shiny party trick they could impress their friends and family (and sometimes even random strangers) with.And she couldn’t get over the fact that what he had said didn’t even make any sense.Lugging her own suitcase down the stairs one thunk at a time wouldn’t damage her intelligence or her focus.And furthermore, the brain was a muscle!If anything, the chance to calculate the proper velocity to slide her suitcase down the steps given its weight and the angle would have probably helped her!She shook her head to rid herself of any residual negativity and skipped down the stairs.

Her mother was waiting for her at the bottom, and quickly ushered her out the door and into the car, where her father was waiting. 

“Seat belts, everyone!” Her father gleefully stated, and waited until he heard the familiar metallic click before starting the car.

Cassandra’s mother pushed the button to turn the radio on, and a flourish of classical music drifted out of the speakers.She didn’t dare ask her mother to tune the dial to the channel that plays all of the songs her classmates were always humming and singing in the hallways.She had tried that once, and it had failed miserably.Her parents refused, thinking that anything other than the masterpieces of fellow geniuses would dull her senses somehow.Cassandra rolled her eyes and closed them, leaning her head against her arm on the window.She had instinctively begun counting out the tempo, and this one just so happened to be soothing her to sleep.

 

* * *

 

Cassandra was rudely awakened by the unwelcome return of her headache.She grimaced, and when her mother saw, she turned around to face her.

“Cassandra, honey,” her mother’s voice was laced with concern, “is everything alright?”

She blinked a few times before closing her eyes and answering her mother softly, “Yeah, mom, I’m okay.Just a headache is all.”

Her mother was not so convinced.Ever the worrier, she urged Cassandra’s father to pull over at the next rest stop they can find.Gazing out the window, Cassandra notes the road sign that indicates how far the next rest stop is, and peers up at the dash to find out how fast her father is driving.She begins calculating their approximate arrival time when suddenly everything takes on a warm, hazy orange tint.She tries blinking again, but the odd color doesn’t disappear, and worse, her headache has gone from a dull pain to a pounding throb.Her mother watches in distress as Cassandra curls into herself, whining.

“Pull over.Now.”Her mother demands.

“But I -,” her father doesn’t get to finish his sentence.

“No.I said now!”Her mother is furious with worry

“Does anybody else smell maple syrup?” Cassandra asks quietly, a confused look on her face.

Her parents exchange a look of mild alarm and her father immediately pulls off onto the side of the road and kills the engine.They get out and together, they help Cassandra out of her seat.She can barely stand and the glare of sunlight makes her wince.Her father has a strong and gentle hold on her shoulders, supporting her, and her mother is in her face, running a hand across her forehead and down her cheek.Her mother cups her chin and softly croons over her, hoping her daughter is okay.

Cassandra gently nudges them away and leans against the car for support.Finally, she feels the pain begin to recede again, and she can open her eyes without feeling utterly blinded.The weird orange tint is fading too, and she can no longer smell what she could swear was maple syrup.

She manages a tentative smile, and opens her mouth to tell her parents, “It’s okay, I’m fine now, really.”

She sees her mother’s smile spread and quickly fade before everything goes black and she collapses.Her parents are left standing in horrified shock as they helplessly watch their beloved daughter’s body convulsing.


	2. Chapter 2

When Cassandra came to, it was to the sight of a drab and sterile hospital room.This was confirmed by the stringent smells and the beeping and whirring of the various machines that were monitoring her.She looked around for her parents, and was both disappointed and scared to find they weren’t there.She tried desperately to picture in her mind the last thing she remembers, but can’t focus enough because her head starts throbbing again.It triggers a response from one of the machines because a nurse swiftly enters her room, followed by both of her parents.Her mother’s face is tear-streaked and puffy from crying, and her father’s is absolutely pallid.After the nurse finishes checking her over to make sure nothing is of immediate concern, she leaves Cassandra alone with her parents.

“Oh my baby!” her mother cries, rushing to hug her.

Her father takes her hand and holds it comfortingly in his own, caressing the back of it with his thumb.

“I’m so glad you’re finally awake, we were so worried,” her mother continues.

She glances expectantly between her father and her mother, waiting for one of them to explain what is going on and why she is here.  When neither of them are forthcoming, she has to ask them point blank.

“What happened?  Why am I here?”

Her parents exchange a nervous look, still not answering her question.  Finally, her father breaks his silence.

“Cassandra, you collapsed along the side of the road.  You had a seizure.  You’re mother called 9-1-1 and you were rushed here.  You’ve been out for quite awhile.”

Cassandra stairs at a spot on the wall in between her parents and has to swallow past the lump that is growing in her throat.She takes a moment to process what her father has told her before speaking again.

“A seizure?” she whispers in disbelief, and then realization dawns on her face and she asks more urgently, “How long have I been out?  How long is ‘awhile’?”

“Three days,” her mother answers softly.

“Three?  Three days!” Cassandra anxiously stirs in her bed, but is stilled by her parents.

She begins ranting nervously, “I’ve been here for three days?  No, no, no!  That means I’ve missed the beginning of CTY’s first Summer Session!  I’m supposed to be at Johns Hopkins right now, learning all about micro- and macroeconomics and astrophysics and engineering and calculus and cryptology!  I can’t be stuck here, we need to leave!  I’ve already missed three days of Intensive Studies and I can’t afford to miss anymore, where is that nurse?  Bring her back, I need to get discharged and we need to go!”

Cassandra sees her parents exchange another look, and is frustrated when they stop her from getting out of her bed.  She’s confused that they aren’t as upset about her missing her gifted Summer Program, considering they were the ones that pushed her into it at first. 

“Cassie, sweetheart,” her mother whispers, “you _are_ at Johns Hopkins.”

When she sees tears welling up in her mother’s eyes again, however, she stops squirming and trying to get out of her bed.  She can’t remember the last time she’d seen her mother this upset, and is frightened when she realizes that this must be serious.  And she’s not sure why they would have brought her to Johns Hopkins Hospital for a silly headache.  Until Cassandra remembers picking up on another word her father had said.

“Seizure?  You said I had a seizure.  What-,” she breaks off hesitantly, afraid of their answer, “What is wrong with me?”

At this, her mother begins quietly sobbing again and her father reassuringly squeezes her hand.

“We think it’s best if we let the doctor explain it to you,” he says.

As if her father’s words have summoned her by magic, the doctor enters her room, a tight-lipped smile that is an attempt at comforting on her face.

“Hello, Cassandra, my name is Dr. Sanderson, but you can call me Julie, if you like,” she greets her warmly, extending a hand for Cassandra to shake. 

 

* * *

  

Cassandra shakes the doctor’s hand and gives her a pointed look, waiting for an explanation.  But Dr. Sanderson simply sits on the edge of her bed, pulls out a flashlight, and checks Cassandra’s eyes.  She smiles satisfactorily and then gently grabs her wrist, checking her pulse. 

When she is finished, she looks at Cassandra and asks her, “How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” she states slowly, “And confused.”  Cassandra doesn’t return the doctor’s smile.  “What’s wrong with me?”

Dr. Sanderson looks toward Cassandra’s parents, stands, and motions for them to each take a seat.  She crosses to the foot of Cassandra’s bed, and begins speaking animatedly with her hands.

“When you were brought to us three days ago, we were at a loss as far as finding the cause of your seizure.No history of epilepsy, no high fever, no head trauma.It wasn’t until your parents mentioned you making a comment about have a headache and thinking you smelled maple syrup that I realized what the cause might be.”

She paused, making sure Cassandra was following.

“Cassandra, are you familiar with the neurological phenomenon know as Synesthesia?”

Cassandra silently shook her head no, and allowed the doctor to continue.

“Synesthesia is a condition where a person’s sensory and cognitive pathways essentially overlap.  So one stimulus can result in two separate involuntary neurological responses.”

Dr. Sanderson again waited for a look of understanding from Cassandra.

“The most common form of Synesthesia is known as Grapheme, which is where numbers and letters evoke a specific association with certain colors.”

Cassandra swallowed again, hard.  That would explain the orange, she thought to herself.

“When your parents explained to me how smart you are, have always been, and then told me about the maple syrup comment, I had a thought.  I was great at math and science when I was in school, and I know that it can be hard to turn that off, even for a little while.  You’re mind is always churning, thinking, exploring.  So when I noticed the combination of the headache and odd smell followed by the seizure, I decided to run an MRI and a CT scan, specifically of your frontal lobe.”

Dr. Sanderson trailed off, allowing her words to sink in so Cassandra could process them.

Cassandra looked up at the doctor, “So, what did you find?”

The doctor allowed her hands to rest on the railing at the foot of Cassandra’s bed.  She spoke solemnly when she answered.

“Cassandra, we found a tumor in your frontal lobe.  This type of tumor is an oligodendroglioma.  Currently, it’s about the size of a pea, and while this type of tumor is slow-growing, unfortunately it is incurable.”

Cassandra was left speechless.  Tumor.  Incurable.  Size of a pea?  She had always hated peas.  The words sank into her like a dead weight.  She felt the familiar sting of tears burning behind her eyes, but refused to let them fall in front of her doctor.  Despite being the bearer of bad news, she actually liked her doctor.  Cassandra liked knowing that brilliant women who loved math and science could succeed.  She forced a stoic look onto her face, and met Dr. Sanderson’s eyes as she asked her the appropriate questions.

“What can we do?  It’s incurable, but are there any treatments?  Surely there has to be something?”

“Well,” Dr. Sanderson began speaking with her hands again, “the good news is that we’ve caught it while you are still very young, which gives you a significantly longer survival rate than most of the patients who get this diagnosis.  And like I said before, these types of tumors are generally slower-growing than most others.  As far as treatment, we have found that the most effective form of treatment is PCV chemotherapy.  It’s going to be tough.  You’re going to get very tired, and you’re going to feel weak.  And this is going to take time.  But looking at you, I can see that you are strong and you are brave.  While wee cannot do anything without the consent of your parents, being that you are a minor, ultimately, this decision is yours.”

Cassandra leaned back against her pillows, taking time to process everything she had just heard.  She was sick.  She had a tumor in her brain.  She was going to die.  Immediately, she felt a hot tear streak down her cheek and she quickly swiped it away.  As soon as she did, another rolled down the opposite cheek.  She was going to die.  She was fifteen years old and they just told her she was dying.  She would never be able to look at herself the same in the mirror ever again.  There was no way she was going to sit back and let this happen passively.  No.  She thought.  She had to be proactive.  She couldn’t go down without a fight.

Cassandra looked to her parents for support, before turning her gaze to the doctor and giving her answer, “I want to do the treatment.  Whatever it takes.  I want to fight this thing.”

Dr. Sanderson smiled, and her mother cried with relief, grabbing hold of her father’s hand.  Her father took hold of her hand once more, and Cassandra squeezed his fingers nervously.

“I’m glad to hear that, Cassandra,” the doctor stated hopefully, “We can start your treatment right away.  It will be on going, for as long as you have the tumor - the rest of your life - unless we find a cure in the mean time.  Eventually, you will get periods of treatment with several months of breaks in between.  But initially we have to be aggressive, which typically means seven weeks on, four weeks off -”

“Wait,” Cassandra interjected, “so, this means I’m going to miss the CTY’s Intensive Studies Summer Program?”

The doctor looked at her parents dubiously.  Her father nodded, indicating that he would be the one to tell her.

“What?” Cassandra asked anxiously, looking to her parents.

“Cassie,” her father spoke hesitantly, “it’s not just the Summer program that you’re going to miss.  Honey, this treatment is going to take longer than that.”

“What are you saying?” Fear tinged Cassandra’s voice, as she realized what they must mean.

“Cassie, you can’t go to college this Fall.  Maybe not ever,” her father looked at her with sad eyes as he dealt one final blow.

“I’m sorry Cassandra.  Please let me know if there is anything I can do, and if you need anything, pudding, jello, whatever you want, don’t hesitate to press that call button, okay?”  Dr. Sanderson smiled sympathetically at her, before remembering something else.  She reached into her pocket, withdrew a white envelope, and handed it to Cassandra, “Here, this arrived at the nurses’ station for you.  You must have a friend who wants you to feel better.”

Cassandra traced her fingers over the gold filigree lettering on the envelope.  The return address was for the Metropolitan Public Library in New York City.  When she opened it, fancy calligraphy etched itself onto the note paper, inviting her to interview for a position with the library.  Probably an incredible internship that she would have loved.  She huffed indignantly and promptly threw the envelope in the waste basket beside her bed.  Yet another opportunity she’d have to miss because of this stupid thing growing inside of her head.  This was going to be Cassandra’s worst Summer ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From best Summer ever to worst Summer ever. I had to do a little surface research while writing this, so if you find anything glaringly obviously wrong, let me know. Also yay for lady doctors! I was just about to write the doctor as a guy and then I thought not, because Cassandra is a badass lady scientist/mathematician and so she should get a strong lady doctor. I had to do something nice for her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things always come in threes. Good things, bad things. All kinds of things. And it's no different for Cassandra this Summer.

Cassandra rolled over in her bed and groaned.She didn’t even want to look at the clock or know what time it was.Peeking one eye open, she caught a glimpse of the calendar hanging from her wall.Cheery little animals smiled back at her and she glared.Today was supposed to be her first day of college.But her entire life had been turned upside down and inside out two months ago when she’d gotten her death sentence.She was supposed to be heading to Johns Hopkins for one of their gifted youths Summer Programs.Instead she’d ended up at Johns Hopkins for medical treatment.She was thankful to finally be home, back in her own bed again, surrounded by all of the things she loved in her bedroom.Even the wall calendar she had been glaring at earlier.She couldn’t stay mad at animals for long.

She was also grateful that her chemotherapy treatment was going well so far.  Her tumor hadn’t progressed at all, yet, and other than feeling more exhausted than she had ever felt in her life, even more than after she’d run that half marathon, and some bleeding in her gums, Cassandra felt pretty well.  That is until she looked in the mirror and was reminded that she had a ticking time bomb inside of her brain.  She tried not to think of that now, and focus only on the positives.  She was doing well, she was home in her own bed.  She was in the middle of her first four week break and felt stronger every day.  And the sun was shining!  Which meant maybe she could sit outside under her favorite tree and read that new article on Witten’s M-Theory that she’d been hoping to.

Cassandra dragged herself out of bed and down the stairs.  She sunk down into her chair at the kitchen table and muttered a polite good morning to her parents.  They each smiled at her and continued on in their motions.  One eyebrow quirked up as she observed them.  Something was different.  They looked… Happy?  Actually happy.  For the first time in weeks, Cassandra noted that her parents both looked really, truly happy.  There was a distinct lightness about her father as he flipped pancakes on the griddle, and her mother was humming while she wiped down countertops and washed the pile of dirty bowls and utensils used to prepare the batter.  Their good mood was contagious, and soon Cassandra found herself smiling contentedly as she waited for her breakfast.

When her parents finally join her at the table, plates of delicious, fluffy pancakes in front of them with melted butter, drowned in maple syrup, they each took one of her hands in their own.  Her father lead them in a traditional grace before their meal.  Cassandra obligingly recites along with them, more out of habit than anything else.  She doesn’t consider herself overly religious, even now after her tumor diagnosis, but she was raised in the Episcopalian Church, and she was always rather fond of their vicar, Mother Sara.  She is less fond, however, of the evening prayer her parents taught her to say every night before going to bed.

  _“Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep._

_If I should die before I wake, I pray the Lord my soul to take.”_

It left a funny taste in her mouth now, since dying was a very real and very present possibility.She hoped her parents would never realize that she had stopped saying it altogether.

Grace comes to an end and just as Cassandra is about to dig into the pancakes that are making her mouth water, her father clears his throat.  She stops with her pancake filled fork mid-air, mouth hanging open.  Slowly, she sets the fork back down on her plate and looks to her father.

He’s grinning when he says, “Cassie, your mother and I have an announcement to make.”

“Okay,” she chuckles lightly, his grin is catching and she can’t help but smile.

Her parents clasp each others’ hands and smile at each other before looking at her again.

“Cassie, sweetheart,” her mother is beaming, practically glowing, “you’re going to be a big sister!”

Cassandra’s smile rapidly fades into a look of shock.Her mouth goes slack and her eyes grow wide.She must have heard her mother wrong.

“I’m sorry,” she states in disbelief, “I’m going to be a what now?”

“You’re mother and I are having another baby, Cassandra.  We just found out last week.  You’re going to be a big sister!  Isn’t that exciting?”  Her father grins even wider.

 

* * *

  

She gives her parents a tight, forced smile, hoping they don’t notice the disgusted look she knows must be on her face.  A big sister?  A baby?  Eugh.  _Maybe_ she would have been excited if this had happened ten years ago.  But she was practically an adult herself now.  And she was no longer overly fond of babies.  Her older cousin Jessie had one last year, and it was the loudest, fussiest, stinkiest thing she’d ever seen.  Not to mention that the timing of this was terrible.  Cassandra had always been her parents’ number one priority.  She was their special little girl, their brilliant, smart, little genius who never failed to please and impress.  A sneaking feeling of self-doubt crept up on her.  She couldn’t help but feel as though she was being replaced.  She was damaged goods now, and they needed or wanted someone else to take her place because she couldn’t be their perfect little brainiac child anymore.

She couldn’t help the blunt remark that escaped her lips, “Don’t you guys think you’re a little old to be having another baby?”

“Cassandra, don’t be so rude.  Your father and I are only 38.  Plenty of people wait until later in life to have children,” her mother scoffed, before turning her attention back to Cassandra’s father.

They continued staring dreamily at each other.  Cassandra wanted to gag.  She looked down at her pancakes wistfully.  She had been so looking forward to them, but now she had completely lost her appetite.  She pointedly pushed her plate away from her and avoided looking at her parents.

“If you don’t mind,” she feigned a yawn, “I’m still feeling kind of yucky from my treatments, so I am just going to go upstairs and go back to bed.”

“Sure honey, whatever you need,” her mother sighed, not looking away from her father.

Cassandra rolled her eyes and stood up from the table.  She at least did her parents the courtesy of bringing her plate to the sink before hastily retreating up the stairs.  She caught a glimpse of the spare bedroom as she passed it in the hall on the way back to her room.  It was surprisingly empty, and it stopped her right in her tracks.

“Mom?  Dad?” she cried, somewhat urgently.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” her father called back.

“Could you, uh, could you just come here for a minute?”

The tone of her voice must have alarmed them, because she heard the screech of chair legs grinding across the linoleum floor and a stampede of feet on the steps.  Her parents were at her side in seconds with concerned looks on their faces.  At least she knew they cared enough to still come running.  For now.

“What is it honey, what’s wrong?” her mother questioned.

“Uh,” Cassandra gestured to the now empty room, “What happened to all of my trophies, and ribbons, and awards from all the S.T.E.M. Fairs and School Fairs?  All the ones that I won over the years?”

“Oh, uh, well,” her father spluttered, “It’s just that… Your mother and I thought that it might be too painful to have this room filled with reminders of who you used to be.  We got rid of all of them last night while you were asleep.”

His words stung her more than she could imagine.  All she could do was nod solemnly and continue her retreat to her bedroom.  She closed the door behind her and heard her mother call out an I love you.  She made sure she heard two sets of footsteps echoing down the stairs before allowing one, single, wracking sob to escape from her chest.  First her Summer Program.  Then college.  Now all of her past accomplishments?  Gone.  Just like that.  Cassandra had a sneaking suspicion that this had just as much to do with the new addition to the family as it did with her not being good enough for them anymore.  She hated this baby already.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaand there it is. I'm not sure why I became so delightedly fixated on the fact that Cassandra Cillian *hates* babies. Like she HATES them. I guess it's because almost every female character in the history of ever has to love babies and want them more than anything? Which is fine! I have a baby (not a baby anymore by any means). But I also don't want any more. So I think when Cassandra revealed she hates babies it was like such a novelty for me - to see that portrayed so normally and casually - I just sort of latched onto it and wanted to delve more into why. Which is how this fic originated - it was supposed to be a light and funny headcanon of mine, that she hates babies because she didn't enjoy becoming a big sister, and that her parents doted over them instead of her and they were a messy inconvenience. But instead my hiatus-tormented brain turned it into this angsty thing that poured out of me.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fourth and final chapter! Sorry I suck at chapter titles, but all of my titling energy goes into finding something for the actual fic itself.
> 
> And two is always worse than one.

Cassandra hates the baby even more when her parents announce that it is not only one little brother or sister she will be getting, but two.Twins.Cassandra thinks that is twice as awful as one.She is absolutely disgusted at how everyone fawns over her parents, especially over her mother, like she’s some sort of saint carrying the next savior.Cassandra had been like her parents’ own personal messiah, and these new babies were like the Second Coming, here to replace her.She does nothing to tame the jealousy that stirs inside her, because it makes her stubborn and angry.And when she is stubborn and angry, she doesn’t think about dying.She thinks about beating her tumor and stealing the spotlight back that is so rightfully hers.She is no less intelligent now, no less brilliant.In fact, she feels as though she is smarter than ever.So what she hallucinates when she does math?She hasn’t had a seizure in months.Her parents are overjoyed at her progress, but terrified of her behavior whenever she hallucinates, and somehow every conversation always ends up focusing on the twins.

She hates them.  The things aren’t even born yet, and she _hates_ them.  Cassandra can barely stand to be in the house, around her parents anymore, because when they aren’t micromanaging her medical treatment, they are baby-crazed loons.  She hates the smell of paint wafting out of the new nursery, which used to be her trophy room.  She hates the tiny clothing littered everywhere.  She hates the new crib and rocking chair, so brazenly standing where her trophy case used to be.  She hates all of it.  So she spends as much time as she can lingering at the hospital after her treatments.  She specifically tells her parents the wrong time to pick her up so she can hang out with Dr. Sanderson, her new favorite person.  Cassandra loves their conversations.  They’re the most stimulating thing she gets these days.  Dr. Sanderson, well Dr. Julie, actually - she’s taken to calling her by her first name since she’s grown so comfortable with her -  Dr. Julie even brings her math problems to work on, and scientific theories, and brand new articles for her to read while she’s being treated.  She is the only person who has never treated Cassandra like she is a porcelain doll, fragile and about to break.  Cassandra draws strength from her visits and treatments with Dr. Julie.

Cassandra tries to put on a brave and happy face the day her siblings are born.  She got a brother and a sister, lucky her.  But when she walks into the room to see her mother, the mother she has to share now, her smile falters.  She plasters it in place so as not to disappoint her parents.  But the truth is, when she looks into the scrunched up little faces of her brother and sister, she despises them.  They are weak and helpless, but so is she.  At least that is how she feels, now that she has her death patiently waiting to claim her sitting right inside of her head.  But she knows that the babies will get the majority of the attention now because they are small and can’t fend for themselves at all.  At least she has that going for her.  Her cheeks are hurting from holding her fake smile for so long, but the more she looks at her siblings, the more she despises them, and the harder she smiles.

The day her parents bring the wretched little things home, her hate for them grows.  She hates the sounds they make.  Constantly, always making some sort of noise or another.  She hates the plethora of baby shampoos and baby washes that clutter the shower tub she has to share with them.  She hates the smells, some sweet, some sour, some altogether too putrid to describe.  She hates the sleep deprivation they impart on her parents, who have become exhausted and grouchy.  She hates the way her mother snaps at her when she accidentally spills a bottle while calculating the perfect temperature to heat formula at, because she hallucinated and her hand flung without her control.  She hates the way they draw attention away from her.  She hates how her parents dote on how normal they are.  She hates that she couldn’t be their perfect, normal, healthy child.  She hates that she had to be born brilliant and was cursed with a tumor.  And she _especially_ hates how illogical these little beings are.

 

* * *

 

 As time goes on and they grow into normal, not overly smart children, she despises them less, but still hates having two toddlers running around tripping her up everywhere she goes.  She is clumsy enough as it is without having two incessant shadows stalking her day and night.  They just turned three, and are even noisier than they ever were before.  One day, out of spite, she tells them there is no such thing as Santa Claus and smirks when they run crying to her mother.  She sends herself to her room, her mother doesn’t have to.  Cassandra just wants space to herself and her parents’ three bedroom Cape Cod is feeling awfully cramped.  She will be 18 soon, and unbeknownst to her parents, she has plans of her own.  She has been saving up her money since she was little, and has a significant sum of funds to get her started on her own life out in the big bad world.  And she has been talking to Mother Sara quite frequently as of late. 

While her family is gathered around the table for a celebratory dinner in honor of Cassandra being an official adult, she states that she has an announcement of her own to make.

“I’m moving to New York at the end of the month,” she grins with excitement.

Her mother’s fork clatters onto her plate and her father’s hangs in mid-air.  Not exactly the enthusiastic response she had been hoping for, but not altogether unexpected either.

“Excuse me?” Her father breaks the silence first.

“Yes, I am going to move to New York at the end of this month.  I’ve found a nice little apartment that I can afford, and Mother Sara has been kind enough to reach out to her friend at Saint Francis Episcopal Hospital to secure me a job.  And this means that I’ll be able to continue my treatments with Dr. Julie, when she takes her position at New York-Presbyterian University Hospital of Columbia and Cornell.  But don’t worry, I’m sure you can come visit me in the city, and I’ll be able to come home and visit every once in awhile, when I’m feeling up to it.”

Her mother just gapes at her, in shock and her father has a hurt look on his face.  She feels bad for her parents, but she has to do this for herself.  She needs to stand on her own and make her way in the world, and she will never be able to do that as long as she stays here, with them.  She is about to open her mouth to reassure her parents when her little sister cuts in.

“Sissy go away?” she questions with a sad tone.

“Yes, Calista, sissy is going away,” she explains patiently.

Cassandra hates to admit it to herself, but they have grown on her.  Now that they are no longer whining, stinking, defenseless babies, they really aren’t so bad.  She decides that even though she absolutely hates babies, she might kind of like kids.  At least in small doses.

“Sissy go far away?” her little brother wonders aloud.

“No, Caleb, don’t worry.  I’m not going too far away, just a few hours.” She reassures him, and he seems satisfied with her answer.

“Why sissy go away?” Calista always has been rather inquisitive.

“Well, because sissy -,” Cassandra clears her throat, “because I am all grown up now, and I have to go be a grown up on my own.”

“I be a growned up too with you sissy?”

“No, Calista, you have to stay here with mommy, and daddy, and Caleb.”

Calista huffs indignantly at that, and then turns around and asks, “How long is a few hours?”

Cassandra struggles momentarily trying to find a context in which to explain the passage of time so that a three year old can understand it.  After a minute’s consideration, she thinks she’s got it.

“It is about as long as four nap times!”

She watches as her brother and sister raise and wiggle their chubby little fingers, trying to figure out how many four is.  While they are temporarily distracted, she looks to her parents.  Her mother has silent tears rolling down her cheeks, and her father’s mouth is drawn tight.

“I hope you can support my decision.  It’s not like I haven’t prepared for this.  I’m ready, I know I am and I can do this.”

Her mother nods, and slowly gets up from the table, crossing to where Cassandra is sitting and pulls her into a tight hug.

“We’ve only ever wanted what was best for you, Cassie,” her father says,” And we’ll be here if you ever need us.”

Cassandra nods and walks over to give her father a hug.  She doesn’t know whether to feel relieved at their consent, or disheartened by the fact that the way he stated “we’ll be here if you ever need us” made it sound like they had no intention of visiting her.  Ever.  She carried her plate over to the sink and turned to them once more.

“I guess I’d better get started packing and boxing up all of my things,” she gives them a soft smile.

Her father simply nods, but her mother offers to help, as do Calista and Caleb.  Cassandra isn’t sure how much help those two will be, but she doesn’t want to pass up one of her last opportunities to spend time with her family.  Maybe what they say really is true, she thinks to herself.  Absence really can make the heart grow fonder.  However, a dark thought lurks in the back of her mind, and she presses it down:  I’m never going to see my family again.  And the oddest part is, I’m strangely okay with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that's it. After about six hours of non-stop writing and tweaking, and re-reading and re-tweaking in the morning, it's done. I know Cassandra told Jenkins that when she chose the Library over the Ladies of the Lake it was the first time she ever felt like she was choosing her life. And this kind of looks like she did it before, but I see this as her feeling she has no other choice, because she's an adult and she can't stay in that cramped home anymore because her family isn't really hers anymore. She feels like her parents decided to start over and she doesn't want to get in the way of that. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Now, how many days until Season 3?!

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so, I haven't written (or been this inspired to write?) in nearly three years, and then I cranked this entire thing out in one go last night without stopping. I didn't realize how strong my Cassandra feels were until I just had to write this. Mostly I'm just screaming over Eve/Flynn so this was a nice surprise. Hopefully this isn't my last hurrah in the fanfic writing world. Comments and criticisms are welcomed and appreciated!


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